


Like You

by Immerghensi



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Cozy, Fluff, Other, Prompt Fill, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immerghensi/pseuds/Immerghensi
Summary: Prompt: You're in a long-distance relationship with Kyun. He's in Korea working his tail off and you're working too and finally,finally, you manage to schedule a visit.





	Like You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dkhodges](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkhodges/gifts).



You've got a desk job, one of those 9-to-5's but sometimes work spills over so you've got to take it with you. Not ideal, but it's a living and you're living it. You've both been missing each other so you arrange to meet. Carving out a bit of time away from your work took some major schedule Tetris, but you did it and now you're happily typing away while you wait for the plane to leave the tarmac.

 

It's a hop, skip, and a tremendous leap across Europe spent in airports waiting out layovers. The plane touches down in Seoul 5 hours later than it was scheduled to. There was a storm or some issue with air traffic control which set everything back. You pull out your phone for the first time since you left the ground 8 hours ago.

 

"Hey, the company called me in to do some work. Call me when you get here" the text says. There are a few typos, which means that perfect-grammar Kyun must have been in a rush when he sent it. You dial his number.

 

His voice is rougher than usual. Has he been sleeping? You write a note on the back of your hand to pick up tea before heading to Starship. "You made it? How was your flight?"

 

You tell him how it went, how glad you are to have two feet on solid ground. He laughs, tells you he gets exactly what you mean, and for a moment you feel embarrassed because of course he would know, he's spent most of his adult life running from place to place and country to country. He could go through airport security in his sleep.

 

"Are you on the way?" He asks. You tell him you are, you've called up a cab and they should be on their way, five minutes or so. He tells you that he has to hang up, someone is calling for him, text him when you get there, love you.

 

A cab pulls up to the curb and a man with dark skin that's seen many years under the sun asks if you're the person he's looking for. He puts your suitcase in the trunk, opens the door for you to get in, and takes you on your way.

 ++++

The city looks different in the streetlamps. It takes on a quality not seen by the daylight, one that's more mysterious, like a french girl in the window of a local cafe, the one who must be wearing some sort of lipstick because otherwise how could she be so vibrant? The bustle of city life will swell again as soon as the sun rises, and truly the life never seems to quiet here, but you enjoy it just the same.

 

The man looks nervous pulling up to the company building. Luckily there's only one or two people outside, so you get in without too much of a struggle. The man at the gate asks for your name and you give it. The driver looks about ready to make like a getaway vehicle while you wait patiently for him to check against the approved visitors list.

 

He makes it to the last page and sees your name. Kyun must have called it in recently. "Pull the car into the second dock and someone will be there to help you." The man whispers something into the radio pinned to his shoulder and an affirmation comes out. You do as he says, unload your things, and tip the driver generously. He wishes you good luck, whatever it may be.

 

Stepping up the stairs is always nerve wracking. You don't feel like you belong, like you have any claim to being there. There are performers all around, and even though you know the looks they're giving you are more confused than judgmental, you still keep your head down and try to get to where you're going as quickly and quietly as possible.

 

Which does nothing to help you avoid running into a large body.

 

You apologize, trying to escape as quickly as possible. "Oh hey! I wasn't expecting to see you!" You look up. Wonho is balancing his laptop, a book, and what is now spilled tea with accompanying wet tea splotches on his sweater.

 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--"

 

"It's ok, I know you didn't. He's expecting you. He'll be overjoyed." You exhale. Thank goodness it was him and not someone else you ran into.

 

"I'll get you some more tea when I go out tomorrow."

 

"Can I get a new sweater?"

 

“You could. Do you have one in mind?"

 

He laughs, wide, eyes disappearing behind puffy cheeks. "I was kidding. Go on! He's probably getting antsy."

 

You apologize again, and he tells you it's alright. The person helping you rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his face. At least you're comfortable with the members, he says. That's the most important thing, that you feel at home here.

 

When you open the door, it's like being thrown into a cave. Truly, that IS the best way to describe Changkyun's studio. He spends all of his time here. The space is definitively HIS. It's almost an extension of him, his mind, the creativity which he possessed.

 

"Knock knock?" You say, sort of as a joke. Neither of you can remember why you started saying it but at this point it's a habit and those die hard.

 

His head spins as he turns away from his laptop. His mouth hangs slightly open in a 'huh?' before he fully realizes who you are.

 

"It's you!!!"

 

He rushes up to hug you. His face buried into the crook of your neck, your arms not even fully around him yet. You lean back on your heels so you don't fall over.

 

“Hi, yes, it _is_ me. I missed you too."

 

He's adorable. It's no wonder the others think of him like a puppy. He tells you about what he's been up to, gives you samples of projects he's working on ("I'm not supposed to show you so don't leak it ok?") and you listen with great intrigue because what he does is intriguing (or at least more interesting than what you do). His run down leads right up until the text he sent you, and his tone drops, expression changing from elated to sullen.

 

"I'm sorry, jagi.... we can't go out. I'm stuck here. The company wants us ready for a collab which means I need to finish these a week sooner than I was planning." You pet his hair. That always calms him down.

 

"It's ok," You say, "we can just stay in. I have some things I need to work on. Why don't we do it together?"

 

He looks like he's blaming himself, but for what, you can't tell. It isn't his fault that the company can summon them at any hour of the day or night. You pull out your laptop and plug in.

 

"Changkyun, fighting!!!" You put your hand up in a fist almost comically. He gives you half a laugh for it. "No but seriously, what's the Wifi password?"

 

You get a full-bellied one for that.

 ++++

Work is fun. The position is definitely a leg up from your other offers, but holy moses, who needs papers this long? You aren't trying to write the Odyssey, you're just trying to explain the results of your research. You comb over the numbers to try to explain to someone that yes, this works, no, you are not kidding. There's thump beside you, which you realize is Changkyun's head hitting the desk.

 

"You ok over there?" You smile. He nods as best he can without sitting up. "Are you sure?"

 

He only groans in response.

 

"Come on, Kyunnie. Stretch break. Let's walk around. It's good for your health."

 

You take a lap around the building. Somewhere along the way you acquire one (1) Joohoney and two vocalists on your epic quest to not have back pain tomorrow. You wish them something like a goodnight, but you're at the point of Schrodinger's Dawn where you can't tell if this hour counts as really late at night or really early in the morning.

 

Changkyun plops down on his chair again, but this time opens his arms and motions for you to come over.

 

"What is it?"

 

You stay standing between his legs while he buries his face into your stomach.

 

"Nothing, just wanted a hug." You're more than delighted to indulge him one, and with however many he wants from here on out. "You smell good."

 

"Really? What do I smell like?"

 

"Like you.” He says, “Like linen and that detergent in the blue bottle. You smell a bit like an office but it's mostly your home smell. You smell like home."

 

Your hands stay frozen atop his shoulders. To say you're speechless is an understatement. You brain has stopped functioning too.

 

"Here," you struggle to pull your sweater off over your head, shirt riding up at the bottom as you shake out the static from your hair. You aren't dressed in anything fancy, just jeans and a t-shirt, but you'll be warm enough, "put it on."

 

He looks at you, trying to find the words to thank you for this simple act, this small mercy. He looks at you like you strung the stars, like you painted the canvas of the earth.

 

The sweater fits him just right. It was a bit big on you anyway (oversized sweaters are so comfy!) and he wraps his arms around himself like it's a safety blanket. Changkyun puts his face into the hood, inhales with his eyes closed, and smiles. "Just like you."

 

He gets up suddenly, moving to the other side of the room to look through some boxes. A black sweater magically appears from the clutter. "Here! If I'm taking yours, you should take one of mine."

 

You go to take to from him, but he pulls it away, instead raising it out of your reach so he can put in on you.

 

"You're such a dork." You laugh, moving around so he can get to garment onto you without whacking you in the head too many times. Your head pops out on the other side, surrounded by a cloud of Changkyun's home smell, the one that made the word ‘boy’ come to mind, the one that made you hum with the security it provided you. You can practically feel his arms holding you. It smells so cozy, you could fall asleep on the spot if he let you.

 

When he's done, he holds you close, the two of you standing in the middle of his studio. Even though there's so much going on, even at this obscure hour, for a moment it's just you two. You're together in the face of almost day-long travelling and inhumanly busy schedules.

 

It isn't perfect, but that's what makes it perfect. He loves you. And you love him. And maybe he is a dork, but he's _your_ dork.

 

And as long as that doesn't change, he doesn't mind.


End file.
